


nighttime

by dryadfiona



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Astrology, F/F, Fluff, Sickfic, sickfic as in like. the flu. not covid.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dryadfiona/pseuds/dryadfiona
Summary: Rachel gets sick. Max gets analyzed.
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Maxine "Max" Caulfield
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	nighttime

**Author's Note:**

> i know like three things about astrology if i'm wrong feel free to roast me in the comments but leave a kudos for my effort please!

"Max," Rachel says. She's the picture of a certain kind of decadence, draped in blankets and smelling strongly of lavender and some other essential oil Max can't place. She's sitting like she's on a throne rather than leaning against her headboard, if the air of self-importance is anything to go by, and the effect is only slightly spoiled by the flushed cheeks and runny nose. "I'm dying."

"You have the flu," Max says. "You're not dying."

"I _could_ be," Rachel says. "You're not a doctor."

"And your fever's not even a hundred degrees," Max retorts. Rachel makes a noise that could be disagreement, but it's not words, so Max chooses not to respond. It's not worth the fight. "Plus, you get your mom making soup and all your things, you're not stuck in a dorm room. It could be worse."

Rachel's expression has gone stony, and Max doesn't have a clue why. She's also not entirely sure why she's here. They're friends, but not in the same way Max and Chloe are friends or Chloe and Rachel. At least, Max thought so. It's possible she means more to Rachel than she realizes--but of course, that would mean Rachel Amber, unequivocally the most well-liked girl in Blackwell and possibly Arcadia Bay, thinks Max is something special.

Which is patently ridiculous.

Still, Rachel had asked for her company, and Max had been all-too-happy for an excuse to get out of movie night with Warren. So she's here, in the Amber house, which is strangely lifeless for all its warm colors and smiling faces.

"Your house is kind of Stepford vibes," Max says after realizing it's been silent for a little too long.

Rachel's glare is piercing, but her expression quickly shifts into a bright smile. Max is having trouble keeping up. "Have you even seen that movie? My house is _way_ more modern than classic horror."

Max nods and awkwardly smiles back, having no idea how to respond to _that_ , and goes back to studying. Trying to study, anyway. Her science textbook might as well be Greek to her without Warren obnoxiously explaining it or Brooke abrasively-but-less-obnoxiously explaining it, and Rachel's sniffling is distracting.

When Rachel had asked for her company, Max had expected some misadventure or movie night. Something planned. Every time she's hung out with Rachel and Chloe, it's been a big fucking deal sort of night, breaking into the pool, going to a probably-illegal concert, Max's first time smoking weed. With Chloe, they can just chill, but Max has never just spent time with Rachel.

Huh. This is the first time they've been alone together for more than a couple minutes. And Max thought she felt awkward _before_.

"Is Chloe coming?" Max asks.

Rachel frowns at her. "No. Does she have to?"

"I guess not," Max says. "It's the first time we've been alone together."

"Is it?" Rachel asks. Max has never caught her lying before, for all that Chloe says she enjoys it, but her casual indifference is so obviously forced that Max isn't sure if she's joking or seriously trying to pretend she didn't know. Maybe Rachel's sicker than Max realizes. Rachel rolls her eyes at whatever it is she reads on Max's face. "I'm fine, Max."

"You said you were dying," Max says.

"Yeah, I'm a Leo, we're dramatic," Rachel say, lifting up her hand like a cat paw before pushing it down. "I haven't done that in _years_ , don't tell anyone."

"About the believing in astrology or the furry behavior?" Max asks.

Rachel gasps. "How _dare_ you?"

"I was joking, I don't think you're a furry," Max rushes to add.

"What? I don't care about that. Do you not believe in astrology?"

Max laughs a little before realizing Rachel's not joking. "Um. No."

"You're a Virgo, right?" Rachel asks, grabbing for her phone. "Do you know your moon and rising?"

"I don't know what that is," Max asks. Trying to go back to a conversation topic that isn't astrology, she adds, "What makes it that you love all this?" She gestures at the stars scattered about the room.

"Could just be the Leo sun," Rachel says. "Unless you mean the comfort items, then it's totally the Taurus rising."

Max blinks. "Sure, makes sense."

Rachel either doesn't pick up on the sarcasm or just wants to fuck with Max, because she looks up with an offended expression and says, "I can't believe you'd think I was a Taurus rising. Can you imagine? Me, a fixed earth sign?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Max says honestly. 

Rachel leans forward, and Max doesn't have to justify leaning back to herself; Rachel's sick, she doesn't want to get infected. "Want to bet?"

"Bet what?" Max asks.

"If I can guess your moon or rising," Rachel says. "Without checking. Astrology's real."

"You already know my birthday. For all I know, you looked it up ages ago."

Incredibly, Rachel blushes. Max thinks it's a blush, anyway; if her fever's setting in that fast, this is definitely a bigger deal than Max thought. "Presumptuous! I don't know what time you were born."

"Neither do I," Max says. "Hold on, I'll ask my mom."

She shoots off a quick text, and when she looks up from her phone, Rachel's staring at her with this sharp, inquisitive look that could be judgmental or flattering or anything. It's hard to read.

"Um," Max says eloquently.

"I think you've got a water rising," Rachel says. "You want to appear super creative and thoughtful and introspective. I mean, you are, but you've got some rage deep down too. I'm thinking a fire moon."

"Fire is one of the signs?" Max says. She'd looked at horoscopes in middle school, but she doesn't remember that.

"No, it's a type of sign," Rachel says. "There's three of each element. I'm leaning towards Sagittarius. You're not a Leo moon, and I don't think you're quite childish enough for Aries moon."

"Is Chloe an Aries moon?" Max jokes.

Rachel smirks. "Told you it was real." Still, she doesn't confirm it. "I'm guessing Sagittarius moon, Aquarius rising. It's not Scorpio, and I just don't think you're in touch enough with your emotions for Cancer."

"Gee, thanks," Max says dryly.

Max's phone _dings_ , and Rachel grabs it before Max. "2:15am. Wow, your poor mom."

"Shut up," Max says, cheeks flushing.

Rachel's face falls flat when she types something into the phone though. "Damn. I got it mixed. Sagittarius rising, Aquarius moon. I never would have guessed."

"Still, that's--close," Max says, alarmed. "Are you fucking with me?"

Rachel shakes her head. "No. I wouldn't. I'd just tease you about your horoscope. Watch out for geeks next week, by the way."

Max laughs. Rachel's dislike of Warren has been a staple of their friendship since the beginning. "That's not what my horoscope says and you know it."

"It actually says to take risks," Rachel admits.

"Wait, you checked?" Max asks, and Rachel blushes again. "Wait."

"No, we can't have this conversation now. I'm _sick,_ you'd be taking advantage."

"What conversation?" Max asks, because two can play this game.

Rachel groans. "I get what Chloe means now, you're diabolical!"

"No, I'm not," Max protests.

"In a good way," Rachel clarifies, and Max would like to press, ask how exactly one's _diabolical_ in a _good_ way, but Rachel's shy smile and flushed cheeks are pretty fucking cute, even if she's not sure how much is genuine and how much is fever.

So she says, "Okay," and smiles back.

(Max catches Rachel's flu next week, but she gets to miss a test and a girlfriend, so really, it all works out.)


End file.
